Ignorant Savage
by LoadedBit
Summary: After John Smith left life got hard and the word went dark. Our Indian princess does everything she can to save her tribe and on the way loses what she stood for. I had to delete the story and put it back up after seeing that I had put up a draft and not my finished product so here's the correct version.


It had been many seasons since John Smith had sailed away from my land, which was also the last time I had heard from him whether he was alive or dead I did not know nor did I really care anymore I had more important things to deal with now. More white men came in ships seeking gold, precious stones, and land. They cut down trees and pushed us from our homes and fields they brought with them guns and sickness many of my people died from the disease they brought including my father he was one of the last to go. I always tried to be kind towards them I wanted to learn from them like I thought they wanted to learn from me, but I was wrong they wanted to change us and take from us, always thinking that we were less than them so when my father died and I was left with the only a handful of warriors and a small group of woman and children I knew what I had to do there would be no more waiting to die at the hand of the White Devils we were fighting back I moved my tribe to the mountains and hid away from the world. At first my men and I were only to kill them who found us so as not to lead anyone back to the mountain village and then it was any man we ran into in hunts we discover that the meat on them was good and started bringing it back to feed my people. Soon enough we were no longer hunting animals but hunting down men all men from thoughts that call themselves Spanish or French even the yellow haired blue eyed London men all had come to curse our world and we were fighting against them we will survive.

Me and my warriors were on the hunt again we had scouted a small camp of men to the south and were going to attack as I snuck silently through the bushes I heard the rattle that these men make when they walk the heavy foot falls and the chime of mettle on mettle from all the clasps and buttons. someone was coming from the east they didn't seem to know that I was there, I sent my men ahead I would take care of this one I listen to him as he walked he didn't seem to know where he was going but as he crept close enough for me to see he didn't appear to be lost ether. It was another yellow hared English man I hated how they strutted around looking like they had the right to just walk in place a flag and clam a land that so many had died for, the man paused in this trek and looked around had he heard me no he couldn't have I made no noise he chuckled and then continued on walking just as he had before I slid past the trees crouching down on the ground getting a perfect vantage point of him. I had learned long ago that all white men looked to the same but there was something oddly familiar about this one but that could not be I had killed almost every white man I had seen. He stopped with his back to me perfect; I crept forward with my hands on the ground gliding into the underbrush he bent down to drink from the small stream. I slid my hand knife from the sheath at my waste the long curved blade fit naturally in my left hand I rose up and charged forward blade raised as a small battle cry past through my lips the man turned and stood quick as lightning I saw his face clear in the sunlight and took pause it was him I knew this man

"Hey, hey there it's ok just relax I'm not going to hurt you" he said softly with his arms raised in a stance of surrender he was so familiar, I remembered him I lowered my knife but didn't put it away. He stuck his hand out as the greeting of white men "I'm John Smith I thought you were an old friend of mine creeping around and following me like that." I looked at his hand it couldn't be him, could it? I looked back at his face the yellow hair the blue eyes maybe it was "you shake it."

"I know" that's when I heard them it was my men coming back to find me as they stepped through the brush I turned to them, their faces turned from relaxed to ready they raised there blades, spears, and bows ready to fire, in my native tongue I called "hold"

Tyee my right hand called out "why, who is he"

"He calls himself John Smith"

"The John Smith who saved your father Pocahontas"

"Pocahontas. Then you know her" he called from behind me "I've been looking for her could you lead me to where she is."

As I turned back I brought my blade towards his face which sent him back a few steps "how do I know you are the same John Smith. My people are dying off because of your kind how do I know you won't just lead your men to my village and kill us all."

"The first time we met was not far from here at a waterfall and she ran from me. Then we meet again in the corn fields I found her there and she took me to meet grandmother willow" he paused and looked through the trees as if remembering something "I left her my compass"

He did it was sitting in the folds of my dress "Then you are John Smith" I said lowering my blade with my other hand I reached in and pulled out the compass "See" I said showing it to him then he looked at me really looked at me for the first time "Pocahontas, is it you"


End file.
